


Scar Tissue

by cornpony



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Scars, Smut, Speeding Bullet (Team Fortress 2)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7013209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornpony/pseuds/cornpony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sniper is nervous to take his shirt off because of what lies underneath, but Scout tends to be a pretty persuasive guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scar Tissue

Ah, piss.What had Sniper managed to get himself into?Sure, he and Scout had gone on quite a few…would you even call them dates?They weren’t really _dates_ so much as they were just two coworkers spending time together after-hours…

Well, alright, they’d done their fair bit of kissing, too.

But maybe this time, Sniper had allowed things to get a little too out of hand, if the scantily-clad man before him was any indication.

“Hey, check out out my pubes.”

Scout hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer shorts and pulled them down just low enough to show off a certain area.Furrowing his brow, Sniper stared at the carefully trimmed patch of hair.

“Is that a…lightning bolt?”

“ _Yeah_ it is,” Scout beamed, nodding his head with enthusiasm.“It was wicked hard to get all the angles just right.”He put his hands behind his head and laced them together, then jutted his hips out, modeling himself.The seductive effect of the gesture was (almost) ruined by his goofy, buck-toothed grin.“Whaddya think?”He waggled his eyebrows.“Sexy, ain’t it?”

Sniper found that his mouth had gone dry.He worked his tongue across the roof of his mouth and licked his lips, trying to generate some saliva.

“Definitely, erm, the sexiest pubic hair lightning bolt I’ve ever seen,” Sniper managed to croak out, then mentally kicked himself for saying something so stupid.To his relief, Scout didn’t seem to mind the awkward sentence at all; the younger man simply laughed.

“It better be, mistah.”

Scout had briefly vacated the Aussie’s lap to put his manscaping on display, but after he’d showed it off, he shimmied back to his seat.Even through his own boxers, Sniper could feel the subtle heat of the other man’s groin resting against his.

Sniper thought he might faint.

Scout’s lips were wind-chapped, so they were admittedly a little scratchy, but they were still warm, still soft.The younger man kissed Sniper’s lips with surprising tenderness, causing the Aussie’s arms to break out in a flush of goosebumps.

And now Scout was pulling away, looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes.Scout bit his lower lip, briefly exposing those buck teeth Sniper was so crazy about, then wrapped a hand around each of Sniper’s wrists.

“Yer allowed to put ya hands on me, y’know,” Scout said, guiding Sniper’s hands to the small of his back.Sniper knew full-well that his own hands were rough with callouses, which was in stark contrast to the smooth flesh of the other man’s back.Surely Scout wouldn’t want his grubby mitts rubbing all over him. 

To his relief, Scout didn’t seem to mind, or, at the very least, he was gracious enough not to say anything about it; Scout put his own hands at the nape of Sniper’s neck, his fingers curling into the hair there, and pressed another kiss to the Aussie’s lips.

Sniper felt a tongue wriggling through his lips, trying to entice him to open up.God, his mouth was still dry, though.Maybe Scout could overlook the scratchy hands, but surely he’d have something to say about the barren desert he was about to plunge his tongue into. 

Well, nothing to do now but give it a go, yeah? 

Sniper eased his lips apart and Scout’s tongue slithered in gratefully.By some strange stroke of luck, Scout’s mouth was plenty wet enough for the both of them.With that worry out of the way, Sniper relaxed into the kiss, running his tongue across the other man’s in lazy undulations.He was barely aware that his hands were wandering, fingers taking in the skin of Scout’s back, feeling the gentle waving bumps of the other man’s spine and ribcage. 

When Scout broke the kiss, Sniper became aware that he’d been holding his breath.As he huffed in lungfuls of air, Scout’s hands wandered to the Aussie’s chest, where he undid the top button of Sniper’s shirt.

“Wait,” Sniper blurted. 

Scout’s hands jerked away from the shirt as if he’d touched something hot, eyes wide with alarm.“Some’n wrong?”

Ah, piss.“It’s just, er…I’ve got…scars,” Sniper said, mumbling the last word.Saying it out loud made him realize how stupid he was being— _again—_ but he couldn’t help it that he felt beyond embarrassed about what lie beneath his shirt.

An encouraging smile from Scout.“I think all’a us guys got scars around here,” he said.“It ain’t a big deal.”

“Mine are pretty bad,” Sniper admitted, feeling his face redden.He knew he was being such a _wuss_ at the moment, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yer burnin’ up in that thing, I can tell,” Scout said.To prove his point, he wiped the sweat from Sniper’s forehead with the back of his hand.It _was_ pretty stuffy inside the Winnebago, Sniper would have to admit.Still, though…

Just then, Scout’s eyes widened with a sudden epiphany.“We can turn the light out,” he suggested.

There was only the one lamp on, the one deadbolted to the end table next to the little couch.To turn it off, one of them would have to climb down from the bunk, switch it off, and come back up, and if the mood wasn’t spoiled already, that would really do it in.Plus, Sniper liked a bit of light so he could see, er, what he was doing.

“No, let’s not go through the trouble o’ that,” he said with a shake of his head.He sighed.“I know I’m whinin’, but…”He bent his head down to look at his shirt, at that top button that was already undone, and frowned at it. 

Scout curled his index finger and used it to tip Sniper’s chin back up.“Snipes.Hey.Ya know I don’t care whatcha look like under there, I mean, look at me.”He rubbed his hands across his flat stomach, devoid of any muscle tone whatsoever.“Biggest six-pack ya ever saw, ain’t it?”Then Scout raised his tiny arms, flexing them.“An’ check out the gun show, over here.”

That managed to draw a light chuckle from Sniper.It was obvious Scout was trying his bloody best to quell Sniper’s frazzled nerves, and the least Sniper could do was stop being a wuss long enough to just take the damn shirt off.In all fairness, he ought to take it off, anyhow, because Scout was down to his boxers and his knee-high socks (the socks kept on at Sniper’s bashfully uttered request).All _he’d_ removed were his own socks and his trousers.It was only fair.

“All right,” Sniper finally said.“I’ll take off the bloomin’ shirt.But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As quickly as he could make his fingers function, Sniper undid the buttons of his shirt, taking special care that it stayed mostly closed until he reached the end.He wanted to make a big reveal to get this over with, like ripping off a bandage. 

The last button came undone.Sniper yanked his shirt open and wrestled his arms out of the sleeves, tossing the offending garment away from him, down to the floor somewhere.As Scout’s eyes took in the sight, cold nervousness pooled in the pit of Sniper’s stomach.

A Y-shaped scar began at either of his shoulders and connected in the middle of his chest, the tail of the Y extending down his abdomen.Next to the Y was another gash, starting just above his left nipple and slashing down to his navel.Beside _that_ one was a scar marring his side, stretching from the bottom of his ribcage to the jut of his hip.And not even his arms were spared from the damage; on the underside of his upper arms were twin scars leading all the way to the crooks of his elbows.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if they were just regular-old scars, but they weren’t.These things were inch-thick, swollen, mauve-colored canyons that took on a dull sheen, making them look almost wet to the touch.Even though the—would you call it an accident?—happened nearly a year ago, they still looked fresh and angry. 

He hadn’t given his wounds enough time to heal before staggering back to work, so infection had set in; Doc had used that fancy MediGun of his to clear it up, but the lasting damage had already been done.The scars stayed put.That was one thing Doc couldn’t get rid of, scars—unless you wanted to let him have a go at experimental cosmetic surgery, which Sniper did not. 

Sniper looked to Scout’s face for any indication of horror.To his relief, the younger man had a look not of disgust, but of mild intrigue—eyes studious as he examined the scars, lips slightly parted.Sniper had been hoping Scout would be the one to break the silence (as Scout was wont to do), but he was having no such luck.He’d have to say something himself to end this maddening quiet.

“Well, you’ve seen it now,” Sniper muttered.His cheeks burned.He suddenly became very interested in staring at the map of Australia taped to the wall by the foot of the bed.

Hands crept their way to Sniper’s chest, fingers brushing against ruined flesh, exploring and caressing.They went up under his arms, too.Then back to his chest.Repeat.

_Don’t do that,_ he thought at first, using a considerable amount of willpower not to squirm away.But those touches were so light and soft, and even though he didn’t have much feeling left in the scars themselves, he did in the skin around them, and it felt _so good._ How that was possible, he had no idea.He hated those scars so bloody much, and you’d think somebody pawing at them would be pure torture.But it wasn’t.He didn’t know how, but it wasn’t.It was actually…relaxing.His eyes slipped closed.

He felt the hands cease and Scout shifting in his lap.He opened his eyes in time to see Scout lower his head to Sniper’s chest, resting his lips right in the middle of the Y-shaped scar.He kept them there unmoving for a moment, possibly gauging Sniper’s reaction to it, before he planted a chaste kiss there. 

Some sort of strangled little noise clawed its way out of Sniper’s throat.Touching his scars was one thing; kissing them was something different entirely.Never had he envisioned something like this, never had he fantasized about someone putting their lips there, but once that contact was made, something alighted within him.His hands, which had been lying useless at his sides for quite awhile, fluttered up to Scout’s back, feeling those bumpy bones, those shoulderblades, that nearly-hairless skin. 

As lips met scars, generating that gentle, vaguely moist pressure, one of Sniper’s hands tangled itself into Scout’s hair.Granted, there wasn’t a lot of hair there to enjoy, save for the cowlick at the front that Scout kept longer than the rest of it.When Sniper had first seen that questionable hairdo he’d thought it dumb, then oddly appropriate for Scout’s quirky personality, and finally endearing.He was certainly enjoying it now as he threaded it between his fingers and smoothed it under his palm.

Again, Scout was taking his time with the task at hand, lips ghosting across the purplish gashes, leaving a meandering trail of kisses and the faintest hint of saliva.He even lifted each of Sniper’s arms in turn, making sure not to neglect the scars under there.For some reason, the crooks of his elbows were the most sensitive place Scout’s lips had wandered to, even more so than his abdomen; upon contact, his arms bristled with goosebumps again. 

Scout pulled his lips away and shifted to a more comfortable position in Sniper’s lap.The two men locked eyes for a wordless, motionless moment, and it was the younger man’s eyes that finally did Sniper in.That sounded like dime-store romance novel bullshit, but it was true.Those eyes with a ring of brown around the iris, which gradated to green, then blue—and the freckle.God, the freckle.A tiny brown dot, no bigger than the head of a pin, rested at the corner of Scout’s left eye.Currently, these eyes were crinkled in amusement, as they were the majority of the time, and the sight of them caused something within Sniper to give, to snap and break, to spill over…he couldn’t describe it, really, other than a feeling of intense relief, a wave of calm, and a sudden burst of confidence. 

Because this was a man that would make self-deprecating jokes to try and put Sniper at ease.This was a man who would take things slowly, though it wasn’t in his nature to do so.And this was a man who would touch his scars and kiss them, who wasn’t put off by them at all.

Scout was lying supine beneath him before he knew it.

 

****

 

Toned runner’s legs clamped around Sniper’s back and sweaty hands gripped at his forearms.Scout’s head was cradled in the crook of the Aussie’s shoulder, his hot and needy gasps filling Sniper’s left ear.Those sharp little intakes of air became steadily more vocal as Sniper increased his pace, his hips rolling to the beat of a steady thrum within his mind. 

They didn’t come at the same time, but they were damn close. 

Scout whimpered several nonsense syllables into Sniper’s ear, along with one clearly distinctive word:

“ _Please.”_

The younger man’s back arched, his hips jerked, his stubby fingernails dug into Sniper’s forearms.A strangled guttural cry escaped from Scout’s throat, reverberating around the four walls of the Winnebago.A warm stickiness spread itself between the two men.

Sniper felt Scout’s body slacken beneath him, felt the younger man’s legs tumbling from their place at his back and flopping to the mattress.Sniper grunted and bucked his hips one final, shuddering time, spilling his seed into the man beneath him.His strength rapidly dwindled, then left him completely as the last waves of his orgasm subsided.He summoned enough energy to gently pull himself from the younger man, then collapsed in a heap next to him.

Chests heaving, the two men turned their heads at the same time to look at one another.Scout’s expression was one of dumbfounded euphoria.Sniper’s was probably similar. 

“That was nice,” Sniper said, his brain fuzzy with post-coital fog.

Scout laughed.

 

****

 

Amidst a tangle of arms and legs and all the other body parts that made up the two men, a silence fell over the camper van.The only sounds that could be heard were two sets of lungs breathing in tandem…that, and a strange hooting noise that seemed to come from the roof.

Scout had nearly drifted off to sleep when the sound jarred him from his peace.“What the hell is that?” he mumbled groggily.

Sniper had hardly noticed the noise himself; he’d grown accustomed to it.He let out a yawn before he could answer.“Just me owl,” he murmured.

As if in response, the hooting from above sounded again.Scout cracked his eyes open and furrowed his brow.

“When the fuck did you get an owl?”

Sniper laughed.“Little shit decided he was gonna live on toppa the camper.Kinda fond of ‘im now, actually.Lets me pet ‘im and everything.Sits on me shoulder sometimes.”

Scout shifted a little, readjusting his head atop Sniper’s chest.“Go up there and tell that frikkin’ bird there’s two guys tryna sleep in here,” he mumbled. 

_Two guys._

It just dawned on Sniper that, for the first time in years, he wouldn’t be spending the night alone.He had a perfectly acceptable bloke cradled in his arms—one that he was growing to like more and more with each day that dwindled on.Part of him was scared shitless at this thought, that there was some way he could actually prefer another human’s company more than just his own.He had been so set in his ways, so detached and impassive for so long, he’d forgotten what it _felt_ like to crave the attention and approval of another.

But, of course, he voiced none of this to the man he clung to.“He’ll bugger off after a minute or two,” he said instead, speaking about the owl on the roof.Another yawn.“Go off to catch mice or some other owly thing.”

Scout hummed in reply, or maybe it was a little laugh, Sniper couldn’t quite tell.Either way, within a few minutes Scout was snoring loudly and contentedly, a trickle of drool leaking from his mouth and pooling into Sniper’s chest hair.

A smile twitched at the corner of the Aussie’s lips as he drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of steady snoring and the feeling of another body entwined with his.

**Author's Note:**

> I badly wanted to type the opening verse to 'Scar Tissue' by Red Hot Chili Peppers somewhere in this story, and my younger fanfiction-writing self would've done just that, but I resisted the urge.
> 
> In my mind, there's no right or wrong answer as to how someone writes Sniper (or Scout, for that matter) when it comes to bedroom antics. I've read many a fine fic where Sniper's confident, smug, even (gasp) kinky. I like that idea, but I also like to think that he'd be easily flustered, more than a little awkward, and--dare I say it--shy. If you think about it, he's an awfully reclusive guy, so I don't think it's too much of a stretch to think of him that way.
> 
> Also, I spent more time than I'd care to admit listening to Scout and Sniper lines (and Spy, too, for a story I'm thinking of writing) on the TF2 soundboard, so when it comes to the dialogue I wrote, I think I laid it on a little too thick. Sorry if it sounds over-the-top, but I couldn't think of any parts I wanted to cut.


End file.
